


The Binds that Tie Us

by LucianRafaello



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: I DID MY BEST I'M NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE AU..., M/M, Soulbond AU, Soulbound AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucianRafaello/pseuds/LucianRafaello
Summary: For the Fire Emblem Trick or Treat 2016 Exchange for backwardElagabalus!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadBookkeeping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadBookkeeping/gifts).



Pale fingers padded across emblazoned inches of skin, curiously pondering their purpose. The dark, neatly written inscription had been a part of Corrin’s skin for nearly half his life, but it honestly made no sense to him no matter how much he scrutinized the text each and every morning before dressing. It riddled his mind as much as it did the curve of his ribcage.

_You are my precious family now_ , it says. For what reason was this tattooed onto his torso on the arrival of his thirteenth birthday? And why did they need to bring in a soothsayer to do it? No one else who had tattoos told of a seer overlooking their brandings, but Camilla treated it as if it was normal.

“You’ll know what it means when the time is right, dear.” his sister cooed and combed back bangs that clung to his forehead by sweat. She held his hand, guiding him through the hot needle against his rib; the whole ordeal had hurt so badly, but he was thankful she was there to talk him through it. “Someday, it’ll aaaaaall make sense to you, and all this pain will have been worth it. I promise.”

He trusted her for so long, perhaps it was about time for him to become a bit impatient. Why this quote? Why brand a young boy like this? What--

A rapping came at the door to steal the prince from his musings, just before a voice called from the other side.

“Lord Corrin, your presence is needed at the war council.” Jakob’s muffled voice relayed, “I trust you’re out of bed and prepared for the day?”

Looking down at his nearly bare body - save for his nightly vestments of scandalously modest smallclothes covering the most vital of areas - he could assess that no, he surely wasn’t. It was a miracle he woke up on time, but it seemed his reveries continued to delay him for longer than he supposed they would.

“I-I’ll be ready in a moment!” Corrin stammered nervously, chuckling to disguise his neglectfulness and the sound of clattering armour, “Let Xander and Ryouma know I’ll be there soon.”

“Very well.” A sigh, then footsteps. Though distant, he could hear his butler comment: “Perhaps I should start arriving sooner...”

===

...And it wasn’t as though he could pay attention through any of the discussion at the council. Though his eyes - blankly - followed everyone’s gestures and the figures being pushed by formation across maps of the next battle, his mind was elsewhere.

Leo led the discussion on paths through the mountains, Camilla offered her retainers as scouts, and Corrin…

“Corrin.”

“Huh?” The dragon prince jolted up in his seat, eyes wide as saucers and stealing glances around the room. Everyone had long since left already, and yet here he was, still staring down at the now empty table. The only one who lingered behind long enough to pay mind to his lack of attention was Xander, holding the pieces of figurines in his hand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, tone rife with worry and wisdom all the same, putting the little brass people in a lacquered box behind the head of the table, “You’re usually one of the most proactive participants of our meetings, and yet you didn’t say a word during our confluence. Is something troubling you?”

“Er… Yes...? No?” Corrin sunk in his seat as he responded with uncertainty, hands folded and fingers pressing awkwardly against his knuckles. _Oh please,_ he thought, _don’t worry about me like this._ “I… I don’t know. I don’t think I slept too well last night.”

“When Jakob informed me of your arrival, he did say he didn’t need to wake you this morning. Did you really sleep so poorly that you were awake on time?” While it seemed to be a tease, everyone knew better; he was simply trying to hone in on the problem so it could be resolved. Xander hardly had room in his itinerary for humor anymore, and whatever vague jest he spoke was more of a word choice rather than intentional.

“Pr… obably?” A curl of the younger prince’s upper lip bared his teeth and his conflicting emotions. “I don’t think it’s something I can explain, I probably need to get my mind off of things to figure it out.”

Locking the miniatures away, the eldest heir finally managed to turn and face Corrin before the younger royal slumped out of his chair. His inviting smile and sharp eyes caught the faltering stare of his sibling for all of a second, until the other sat up straight under such a gaze.

“We haven’t sparred in a while; perhaps a battle will bring you out of this mire. What do you say?”

A plan he could get behind; it sounded nice.

===

His form, however, was dreadful. This was an awful idea.

His swings hardly carried through. The intensity of blows between their swords wavered in strength with every slash he made. There was little commitment put into his motions, and Xander repeated the fact over and over, evaluating each mistake.

“Step _into_ your attack!”

“You’ve left your flank open!”

“ **Focus!** ”

“That’s easier said than done!” Corrin protested, furiously frustrated by his incompetence. The next few strikes he made showed some glimmer of improvement, but quickly faltered the moment Xander made a swipe at his side. The feel of his armor repercussing off of Siegfried and slamming against his ribcage knocked the wind from his lungs, sending him down to the ground with little protest from his legs.

As the dragon prince groaned and clutched his side, he could hear his spiritual sibling sigh and kneel by the younger man’s quaking form.

“Whatever troubles you must be awful for you to perform so… poorly.” There was a slight hint of disappointment under his sympathetic tone, reaching his steel-clad hand to rest over Corrin’s. “You took a heavy blow. Let me have a look at it.”

“N-No, no, please…” the boy panted between pained gasps, clutching the sharp digits of his fingers, “I’ll be okay, I’m just… winded…”

“Come now, I’ve practically raised you. When you were younger, I would bandage you up all the time when you’d take a fall… so long as Camilla didn’t get to you first.” A chortle. A chortle from Xander! “It’s been a while, but it would be no different.”

“It would be, though.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Because it’s part of the problem.”

Knitting his prominent brow in confusion, Xander brushed aside Corrin’s hand and began to unfasten the clips, “I think you’re being a little dramatic over a sparring loss. Let me see.”

Silently defeated by the overwhelming concern of his older brother, he laid still and kept eye contact away. He’d see it, that strange brand he didn’t understand. He’d probably have questions. Did he have to get one, too? Would he be able to explain what it was? As each rivet and clasp popped out of place and the breastplate loosened around his chest, air became more scarce. His heart bounded.

Would Xander judge him? Would he have answers? Oh please, let him know something of this marking.

But when the armor was off and his undershirt was raised, there was a pregnant silence that hung over them both. Xander didn’t move. Corrin didn’t speak up. It was if they both mutually understood this was something confusing for them both. Seconds ticked by, until fingers brushed along the marked rib, sending static through the prince’s body. It could have been the injury that warranted such a response - tender skin sending waves of unregistered pain turned to ticklish electricity jolting through nerves - but it felt more like a sensation of vulnerability before his venerable senior.

“You are my precious family now,” a low voice muttered, breaking the quiet. Was that a humored inflection?

“Do… do you know what it is?”

Again, more silence, but this time much shorter. Propping him up to a seated position, Xander only smiled and offered a hand to pick Corrin up to his feet.

“You’re going to need to see a healer.” he said, “It will surely bruise at the very least, so let’s have you patched up before that happens.”

“Don’t dodge my question, because everyone else has for years, and--”

“I promise, I’m not. I’ll answer you later, once you’re properly looked after.”

===

The nurses seemed to be in on the fuss, too. Whenever they went to tend to his side, Corrin could see their faces light up or look away anxiously. However, no matter how many times he would inquire, the answer was always the same: “It’ll be better if you found out on your own.”

But how was he supposed to do THAT when everyone avoided him? Camilla never told him. Xander is making him wait. How is it that one small line of text was so absolutely important that he would have to decipher its purpose all alone? The frustration remained even when the eldest prince took strides into the room, evidenced by the cutting impatience the dragon boy spake.

“You promised.” he said, crossing his arms, letting the hand against his bandaged rib stroke the gauze with a cautionary brush of the fingers.

“I most certainly did, but first, let me ask you something.” Xander grabbed a chair by the bedside and sat proper, leg crossed over the other and hands folded upon his lap, “What do you think it is?”

Of course, Corrin had his theories. None seemed plausible, but then again, his guesses were probably better than mulling idly over it simply existing.

“I don’t know, I thought maybe father had something to do with it.” Hands gestured furiously in annoyance, fingertips fluttering against the air as if imitating one of Odin’s strange rituals, “I know he’s cold, but I thought… you said he wasn’t always so distant.”

As Corrin watched his once “older brother“ crack a little smile, his facial features furrowing before smoothing out. Sometimes, this was how he would laugh; if he knew he shouldn’t be, his expression would steel itself before softening, biting back whatever would have otherwise bellowed from his gut.

“It’s not funny.”

“Ah, in a way, it is a little… but regardless, forgive me for finding it a little humorous.”

“Okay, so if it’s not that, then what IS it?” For the first time in a long time, off the battlefield, the young man bared his teeth. Fierce catlike pupils contracted to a sliver amid a frame of red irises, judging every little shift Xander made. _Speak, damn it._

“There’s a little tradition in Nohr, something that was started ages ago.” The prince’s worldly knowledge flowed so simply off his tongue, it almost felt as though Corrin was having his own intelligence mocked for not knowing, “Nobles tended to use it as a way of finding their soulmates among one another. When a blue-blooded youth presented themselves as mature, a soothsayer would read their fortune, and inscribe a quote onto their body.”

“O...kay… Well, that explains the seer...,” A somewhat calmer Corrin - at least, in the interim - began to relax in his healer’s cot, fidgeting with the hem of his simple blanket, “but what does it do for arranging marriages? I mean… what, am I supposed to know who I’m going to marry if they tell me _‘I know what’s written on your flank!’_ or something?”

“Actually, you aren’t too far off.”

Eyes widened. Instead of nervously looking at his lap or his hands, Corrin now managed to look his company in the eyes. Surely Xander could tell things are starting to click; that gears are churning in his head, and sense was being made.

“The quote inscribed on your rib is tied to the person you are destined to spend your life with. The first words they will say - or have already said to you - are now emblazoned on you as a reminder of your bond with that person. You might never fall in love, you might never wed, but you are bonded in soul by this person.”

Heat pulsed in his blood. His heart raced. He was nervous, and excited, and angry anew all at the same time. He should have been told about this, but maybe everyone was right. Maybe it was better he had learnt this on his own. Once again, a palm pressed to the bandaged bruise, toying with the way it clung to his pale skin and wanting to rip it off to see it again as if it had suddenly changed right now in this instant. Truly it has already changed: now it had meaning.

“S-so, do you know who said this?” Corrin asked, glancing back up at Xander while fidgeting with the patch of cotton, “Do you know who I’m supposed to be with forever? I-I mean, the way you said it--”

“Listen, little prince; don’t rush yourself. Let it come to you in time. You have much to live for in the moment to be rushing about over this.” Xander may have cut him short, but his warm smile accented his soothing response as he leaned over to touch the small man’s lean shoulder to support him in this time of revelation. “Let that moment be something special to you.”

With a grunt, the wise prince rose to his feet, the hand once upon Corrin’s arm now resting on Siegfried’s handle and began to turn a little towards the door.

“If you have more questions for me, don’t hold back, but for now, you should get some rest to clear your head.” he said, “Tomorrow, I’d like to see how you’re faring with another spar.”

He didn’t take a moment longer than necessary to usher himself out.

===

_“You are my precious family now.” He said it with confidence, as he took the small boy’s hand in his and gripped it tight. There was a terrible silence amid the sobs choking from the wailing child; he would do anything to see him smile. He loved him the moment he laid eyes on him._

_A thumb wiped away the cascade of tears. A gentle voice cooed. Away from the cruel eyes of Father’s inner court, hidden in the recesses of the library no one cared to read, the two boys could expose their sensitivities to each other and reaffirm their bonds._

_“I will always be here for you, no matter what.” he said, knelt down just enough so he could look up into the red, puffy eyes that slowly dried the more he reaffirmed his love._

_And through it all, the tiny, frail hand squeezed his fingers, sniffling once or twice more._

_“Th-thank you, Xander.”_

 

He rubbed his upper arm and smiled.


End file.
